


Be Mine - Revised

by Mistress_Whimsy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistress_Whimsy/pseuds/Mistress_Whimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The revised version of my story Be Mine. Castiel confesses his feelings for Dean while dealing with demons, a horseman, and a bloodthirsty Sam. Dean/Castiel SLASH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Mine - Revised

It was a peaceful night. The world was quiet and still, as though it was holding its breath to give the man sitting alone on the park bench just a few minutes of serenity. Vivid blue eyes wandered with lazy tranquility over the playground. If he listened closely, Castiel could imagine that he heard the sound of children laughing, echoing towards him from the dark. There was something about a child's laughter, even if it was only the thought of it, that made Castiel believe that everything he did was worth it. That made him think he could live with these brief bouts of rest and silence, and do without the blind faith he had once relied on to survive. 

 

A distant sound, accompanied by a soft buzzing against his hip, drew Castiel's attention away from his thoughts and into the present. It was the cell phone in his pocket, alerting him to an incoming call with the opening of a Van Halen song he could not remember the title of. He was rather surprised he'd even remembered the name of the band. The angel smiled ever so slightly as his fingers curled around the device; Dean had set the ringtone for him several weeks ago. He remembered watching with barely concealed amusement as Dean worked his way through different tones, shaking his head at some, chuckling at others, until he'd finally settled on the one playing now. Every time he heard it, Castiel thought of the smile on Dean's face as he'd handed the phone back to him. It always made the angel want to smile too, no matter how foreign the new sensation felt.

 

Pressing the green button that would answer the call, Castiel lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

 

"Cas? It's Dean." Another tiny smile flitted across Castiel's face. The nickname, once used simply because it was easier, had become a verbal expression of the friendship between the angel and the Winchesters. The thought made his stomach flutter with sudden nerves. Reaching down, Castiel touched the card in his left jacket pocket and released a quiet sigh. There went his moment of peace. He could almost see the mocking shards of it scattered in the grass around his feet.

 

"Do you need help?" he asked. For a while it had bothered him how readily he offered his assistance to the brothers, until he'd realized that it was _his_ decision, _his_ desire to do so. It had nothing to do with faith and duty and everything to do with friendship, as well as a loyalty he could honestly say he had never felt towards another angel.

 

"Yeah, room 31c, basement level. St. James Medical Center..." Dean trailed off as the angel appeared before him, almost before he'd even completed his sentence. He started only slightly as he glanced up to find Castiel standing inches from his face. After so many abrupt appearances the shock of his sudden arrivals had worn off. 

 

"I'm there now," Castiel stated obviously. He heard his own voice echo in the phone Dean still held to his ear.

 

Dean's eyebrows went up, just a bit, and for a second the angel thought he saw amusement in them. "Yeah, I get that."

 

"I'm going to hang up now."

 

This time he saw it without doubt, an amusement that flared in Dean's expressive eyes but never quite made it to his face. Would the hunter be offended if someone told him just how much feeling was betrayed by his gaze? Such a reaction from the guarded man would not have surprised him in the slightest.

 

Castiel pocketed his phone and watched as Dean did the same. The mirth in his eyes finally found it's way into being in the form of a quick, wide grin. Once again Castiel felt that flutter in his stomach, as though he'd managed to swallow several live butterflies. He remembered Dean's laughter as he'd tried to help the angel understand human sensation, something he'd not had to deal with before being barred from heaven. Though it was true that he was still invulnerable (in a sense) and still did not have to sustain the body with food or drink, it was also true that he had begun to feel his humanity more vividly. He didn't know what frightened him more, the fact that he was falling...or the fact that it hardly frightened him at all.

 

In an attempt to forget the butterflies, Castiel looked away from Dean and towards a nearby table. Sam sat with his arms crossed on the surface as he stared thoughtfully down at a container that held a human heart. He looked up when he felt eyes on him, and smiled immediately when he saw Castiel.

 

"Hi, Cas," he greeted as the angel came to stand beside him. He pointed towards the heart. "I think these are Enochian symbols."

 

Reaching into the container, Castiel grasped the heart and lifted it for a closer inspection. It was cool from the fridge it had been stored in, which made the slick presence of the blood against his skin seem strange. Blood wasn't meant to be cold. 

 

A drop of dread made the butterflies beat more frantically when he recognized the symbol etched into one side of the lifeless organ. "You're right, Sam. These are angelic marks." Replacing the heart, Cas shook his hand in a vain attempt to remove the blood. "I imagine you'll find similar marks on the other couples hearts as well."

 

The hunter didn't look particularly thrilled about being right, something Castiel couldn't blame him for in the slightest. "So what are they? What do they mean?"

 

"It's a mark of union," Castiel replied. He shook his hand again; the wetness was beginning to bother him. "This man and woman were intended to mate."

 

Dean came up beside him, close enough that Castiel felt his heart begin to beat faster. It happened every time he came close to the hunter, though it was a sensation he had been unwilling to describe to Dean for fear that it would give him away somehow. "Okay, who put them there?"

 

The angel almost sighed as he set his blood-slicked hand down on the table. It seemed it was time to clear up another human myth. "Your people call them Cupid."

 

In an attempt to control his heart rate, Castiel let himself focus on Sam. The hunter gazed up at him with an incredulous expression, as though certain he hadn't heard right. "A what?"

 

"What human myth has mistaken for Cupid is actually a lower order of angel. Technically it's a cherub," Castiel explained as best he could. He found it exceedingly difficult to describe something that seemed so ordinary to him. 

 

"Cherub?" Dean repeated, his look of disbelief so similar to his brother's that it was almost uncanny. It always fascinated Castiel how the two could be so alike and yet so vastly different.

 

"Yes. They're all over the world, there are dozens of them."

 

"You mean the little flying fat kid in diapers?"

 

The question struck the angel as so strange that he turned away from Sam to face Dean with a frown of confusion furrowing his brow. "They're not incontinent," he said finally, hoping that this would clear up whatever misconception Dean had formed. 

 

By Dean's reaction this was clearly not the response he had expected. The hunter gave a startled shake of his head and stared at Castiel with an expression trapped between amusement and complete confusion. Castiel had no idea why the man continued to expect certain responses from him. Had he not realized by now that the angel was, in a manner, like a newborn? He had no basic information to draw from, no point of reference, no knowledge beyond what the Winchesters taught him. Then again, his odd answers and comments did seem to amuse the hunter...

 

The angel shook his head sharply. This was getting out of hand. He touched the card in his pocket once more and glanced towards Sam. If he could get him alone for just a moment, would the younger brother be willing to help him? 

 

"So, what you're saying is--" Sam began.

 

"What I'm saying is a Cupid has gone rogue and we have to stop him," Castiel interrupted. He made sure his tone was clear and intent, letting the brothers know that the situation was grave. Expression was still such a difficult thing for him. "Before he kills again."

 

For just a moment the atmosphere was serious and quiet, until it was broken by a sudden, wry chuckle from Sam. "Naturally," he murmured. "So what now?"

 

"I know where he'll show up next," Castiel answered simply. Finding him wasn't the problem, it was pinning him down. 

 

"Great, let's go." Dean glanced down towards Castiel's hands. "Might want to wash first."

 

Cas made a point of lingering by the sink as Dean went out to start the car. When Sam went to follow Castiel met his eyes and gestured towards himself with his free hand. The younger hunter frowned in concern but nodded and told Dean to go on ahead. 

 

"Something wrong?" Sam asked.

 

Castiel shook his hands dry and watched the drops of water fly to the floor with more interest than they deserved. "Not exactly. No. This day, it's a day people give something to someone they care about, right?"

 

"Yeah. Cards, flowers, candy, stuff like that. Why?"

 

"I was wondering..." Castiel paused. He glanced towards the door, which Dean had left open. Once he assured himself that the hunter had not lingered in the hall he continued. "Is this something that can only be done between a man and a woman?"

 

Sam's brow furrowed in a perplexed frown before he realized what the angel meant. "You mean, for example, could a girl give something to another girl?" He waited until Castiel nodded before continuing. "Sure, so long as your feelings towards someone are romantic you can give them a gift, even if they are the same sex. Why?" A look of intrigue sprang into Sam's eyes, which might have been even more expressive than his older brother's. "Do you...do you want to give someone a valentine?"

 

The angel shifted his weight uncomfortably, his eyes darting about as they tried to avoid Sam's intent gaze. When he couldn't bring himself to answer he reached into his pocket and pulled out the card, which he held out for Sam to inspect. 

 

It was a simple card. Rectangular and small, with a dark red heart bordered by a lighter line of red that framed the edges of the otherwise white card. Beneath the heart were two words in bold black lettering. Be Mine. Castiel could recall, with some amount of embarrassment, the lady's face when he'd asked about such a card in a gift shop several days passed. She'd seemed so warmed by his desire to buy the appropriate valentine. When she'd handed him his first one it had been almost the same, only the lettering had been pink. She had asked him how long he had known the girl he wanted to give it to. He had replied with his usual bluntness that he intended to give the card to a man. Without so much as a surprised look she had taken the card back and replaced it with the one Sam held now. "He might appreciate the black more than the pink," she'd said with a wink. 

 

Sam laughed suddenly. It wasn't the wry laugh from before, or the hopeless laugh Castiel had heard on several occasions. It was a light, airy laugh, so free of darkness that Castiel wished with a sudden ferocity that Dean had still been there to hear it. 

 

"Did I do it wrong?" the angel asked hesitantly.

 

Sam shook his head immediately. "No, it's not that. I just...I can't picture you in love."

 

A year ago he would not have been able to 'picture' it, either. Taking the card back, the angel tucked it into the safety of his pocket and tried not to think too hard about how he would deliver it. 

 

"So, who do you want to give it to?" Sam asked curiously as they made their way up the stairs and towards the parking lot.

 

For some reason it seemed completely ridiculous that Sam hadn't already guessed. Castiel found himself looking up at the other man with an expression of disbelief. "I don't know many people." 

 

"Well, I know," Sam said awkwardly. "But..." there was a pause before the hunter's eyes suddenly widened in shock. "Oh my god. It's Dean."

 

Castiel lifted one hand and rubbed it briskly across the back of his neck, a habit he'd picked up somewhere along the long line for when he was uncomfortable or nervous. How could the butterflies _still_ be in his stomach? "Yes."

 

The angel honestly had no idea what reaction to expect from Sam. He'd watched humanity's reaction to the idea of two men together over thousands of years. While most of the hunter's generation seemed to take the idea with easy acceptance and even occasional curiosity, he knew there were still a great many who considered it some sort of horrible sin, or just found it disgusting. Was Sam one of those people? Would he object to the angel's affections for the older brother he looked up to?

 

His fears were eased almost immediately when Sam smiled, an expression that was surprised and extremely sympathetic but not at all disgusted. "Cas...you know Dean is the straightest person alive, right?"

 

Cas was silent a moment as he attempted to figure out on his own what that meant. When he realized that Sam meant Dean was attracted to women he nodded. "I know," he said simply. He didn't go into further detail; there was no need for it.

 

"Well...good luck." Sam slapped him on the back and smiled encouragingly. "It's the apocalypse, what do you have to lose?"

 

"You are alright with this?" Though he saw no trace of anything negative in Sam's gaze or expression he still felt the need for assurance. 

 

Sam nodded. "Actually, it's kind of cute." 

 

With that he opened the passenger door and climbed into the car, leaving Cas to stare after him with an uncertain glare on his face. He wasn't sure if he liked that word. Dean definitely wouldn't like that word. He decided firmly to ignore it as he slipped into the back seat and gave Dean directions. 

 

As it turned out, that was nearly impossible. At random moments Sam would burst suddenly into laughter, causing Castiel to feel a strange heat in his cheeks while Dean would cast glances of mixed concern and hesitant amusement towards his little brother. Several times the hunter tried asking just what was so funny, but every time Sam would shake his head, glance at Castiel in the rear view mirror and fall into hysterics all over again, until Dean finally gave up.

 

The bar Castiel had directed Dean to was crowded when they arrived. Beneath hanging decorations of bright red hearts singles talked and flirted, packing nearly every stool and table. They managed to find a single empty booth in a dark corner. Before they sat Sam glanced at him, then flicked his eyes towards Dean. When Castiel shook his head almost frantically Sam slid into the booth beside him at once, forcing Dean to sit opposite them. 

 

"Wanted to give you the option," Sam whispered.

 

Castiel tried for a smile and managed a small one. He could only hope it conveyed his gratefulness to the younger brother. 

 

While the hunters ordered food and drinks Castiel cast his eyes about the bar, watching for any sign of the 'cupid' he knew would make an appearance. Several times he found himself distracted as he first listened to what was ordered, then watched as it was brought to the table. While he didn't need to eat, Castiel had found that since he had begun to become more human he had started to wonder what things tasted like. His gaze wandered continuously from the crowd to focus instead on Dean's burger as he set aside the top and reached for the ketchup. 

 

"So, how do you know he'll show up here?" Dean asked. 

 

"This place is a nexus of human reproduction, it's exactly the kind of..." he trailed off as Dean began to squirt ketchup onto the exposed meat. A strange sensation of emptiness made his stomach growl softly. Was he...hungry? He must have fallen further than he'd thought. "...the kind of garden Cupid would come to pollinate," he finished distractedly. 

 

Dean replaced the top of his burger and began to lift it to his mouth but paused suddenly. He stared at the food as though unsure why he had it at all before dropping it back onto his plate and pushing it away. Instantly, concern appeared in Sam's eyes.

 

"Wait a minute. _You're_ not hungry?"

 

The hunter glanced down at his food, then back up to Sam, his expression startlingly blank. "No." 

 

"Then you're not going to finish that?" The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he'd formed them. When Dean didn't reply Cas reached over and pulled the plate towards himself, steadfastly ignoring the fact that both brothers were now staring at him rather than at each other. 

 

A sudden rush of awareness alerting him to the presence of the Cherub never allowed him to take the first bite. Reluctantly, he lowered the burger back to the plate. "He's here."

 

Immediately, Sam and Dean began to glance over the bar, their eyes alert for anything out of place. "Where? I don't see anything," Sam murmured.

 

"There." Castiel lifted a hand and pointed towards a couple sitting in a booth below them. They had gone very abruptly from casual flirting to heavy kissing, though no one around them seemed to notice the sudden change. "Meet me in the back."

 

Without warning the angel vanished, reappearing in a back room of the bar that served as a storage area, if the boxes and old, broken equipment were any indication. He could feel the cherub nearby, likely lingering to watch the after effects of his marked couple. Lifting a hand to give his will a path to follow, Castiel sent a surge of power towards the cherub's energy form, locking it into place. Only seconds later he heard footsteps as the brother's came through the open door behind him. 

 

"Where is he?" Sam asked as the pair came up beside him. 

 

"I have him tethered," Cas replied. He spoke a short incantation in Enochian, calling the cherub closer to them. "Manifest yourself," he murmured, his tone leaving no room for interpretation. It was a command, not a request. 

 

Finished, the angel let his hand fall and waited.

 

"So...where is he?" Dean asked when nothing appeared to happen. His eyes continued to dart about the dusty old room with more agitation than was normal for him. Something was wrong, Castiel decided, and Sam's reaction to his brother's unusual behavior wasn't the only sign. 

 

"Here I am!" a sudden, cheerful voice cried happily from behind them. 

 

Though he knew it was useless, Castiel immediately whirled about and backed several paces away. The cherub had found Dean first. In the usual enthusiastic greeting he had thrown his arms around Dean from behind and lifted him off his feet in a tight and, as far as most people were concerned, far too personal hug. Dean tensed instantly, his features twisting into a furious snarl as he tried frantically to twist away from the cherub's attentions. It was no good, the cherub only laughed as he set the hunter down and glanced up towards his next victim; Castiel.

 

"Hello, you!" he said brightly as he rushed across the small space and pulled Castiel into an equally enthusiastic embrace. 

 

The angel winced but did not try to fight it as Dean had. He saw the hunter note the cherub's naked state, which seemed to add fuel to the already roaring fire in his eyes. 

 

"This is Cupid?" Dean growled angrily. 

 

"Yes!" Castiel gasped. The cherub had a very good grip on him, and he was quickly losing his breath. He let out a sigh of intense relief when he was released. The angel had nothing against closeness, or even the hugs that humans seemed so fond of, but a cherub's contact was so overly personal that it almost never failed to cause tension in whoever the attention was being directed towards. 

 

The cherub had spotted Sam, who had his hands held up in front of him as he tried to back away, his eyes wide and almost frantic. Dean came up beside Castiel, as though seeking comfort in his presence. It gave the angel the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Is this a fight? Are we in a fight?" Dean muttered, practically begging the angel to answer in the affirmative. 

 

"This is...their handshake," Castiel responded slowly. It was the best way he could think of to describe the unusual greeting.

 

"I don't like it!"

 

Cas felt the corners of his lips turn up in a tiny smile even as he shuddered in agreement. "No one does."

 

The cherub released a tense and extremely unhappy Sam. All smiles, he approached the two again, seeming unfazed when Dean visibly recoiled. Castiel had an instant and nearly uncontrollable urge to reassure the hunter in some physical way. He let himself reach up and place a hand on the man's shoulder, easing the need without moving out of the territory of friendship. Instead of turning his discomfort on Cas, as the angel had feared, Dean relaxed somewhat. 

 

"What can I do for you?" the cherub asked cheerfully.

 

"Why are you doing this?" Castiel demanded.

 

"Doing what?"

 

"Your targets, the ones you've marked, they're slaughtering each other."

 

The bouncy, bubbly aura of the cherub vanished in an instant. "What? They are?" 

 

Dean, who was still staring warily at the cherub, finally found his voice. "Listen, we know, okay? We know you've been flittin' around, popping people with your poison arrow and makin' them murder each other!" His agitation found it's way into his voice, striking out at the cherub with the same force as his words. Cas squeezed the shoulder beneath his fingers, hoping the pressure would help calm the man. He'd seen mothers do the same thing to their frightened children, or watched friends use it as a type of reassurance. It seemed to work because Dean relaxed again, though his eyes remained angrily locked, with no small amount of discomfort, on the cherub's form.

 

The cherub looked utterly shocked by Dean's accusation. "You think that I...?" Tears welled up brightly in eyes that had been so happy only moments before. "I don't know what to say!" He sobbed. He darted around the two of them, as though he didn't want them to see his tears. Both Dean and Castiel flinched away as he went by, brushing against each other as they did so. Dean didn't seem to notice but the angel had to clamp down on the sudden rush of heat that invaded his body. Now was not the time. 

 

Sam approached them cautiously, his eyes trained on the cherub with more paranoia than agitation. "Should...should somebody go talk to him?" he asked hesitantly.

 

"Yeah, give him hell, Cas," Dean said quickly. He reached over and slapped the angel encouragingly on the shoulder while at the same time shoving him towards the subject both brothers feared to approach. 

 

Pleadingly, Castiel glanced between the two of them, begging either one with his eyes not to make him do this. Both stubbornly avoided his gaze. Castiel really couldn't blame them. Having a naked cherub hug you was a disconcerting experience for the most stoic angel, he could only imagine how it had affected them. With a quiet sigh of resignation he crossed the distance to the sobbing cherub. 

 

"Um, look, we didn't mean to...um..." he turned partially and gave the hunters an expression of helplessness. Sam smiled and nodded encouragingly and Dean winked, which wasn't helpful at all. Uncertainly, the angel turned back towards the cherub. "Um...hurt your feelings." Was that the right thing to say?

 

Instantly the cherub whirled about and grabbed hold of the angel, pulling him into another unwanted embrace. Castiel let out a quiet gasp as his breath was knocked from him again, and his body tensed in protest. How would he react if it were Dean's arms around him? Immediately, he shook the thought from his head; later!

 

"Love is more than a word to me, you know?" the cherub's voice was thick with his tears. "I love love, I love it, and if that's wrong I don't wanna be right!"

 

Though he had absolutely no desire to prolong the contact, Castiel awkwardly brought up his hands and placed them on the cherub's shoulders in an attempt to comfort him more quickly. Anything to get him back a few paces and talking. "Yes, I...I have no idea what you're saying."

 

The cherub pulled back abruptly, though he kept a grip on Castiel's arms. "I was just making my appointed rounds. Whatever my targets to after that has nothing to do with me. I was following my orders. Please, read my mind. Read my mind, you'll see."

 

Oddly enough, Castiel hadn't thought of that. Was it because he was becoming more human? Once the thought would have made him shudder, now it was simply more of a passing observation, easily tossed aside or kept for later. He looked into the cherub's eyes and let his mind touch the other's. It took only seconds for him to realize that the cherub was sincere. This was not his doing, and their accusations had distressed him greatly. 

 

The cherub let him go as Castiel turned back towards the brothers. "He's telling the truth."

 

The cherub sighed with relief, and his earlier cheerfulness returned. "Thank you!"

 

"Wait, you said you were following orders," Dean spoke up. "Who's orders?"

 

The question provoked an amused burst of laughter from the cherub. "Heaven, silly, heaven!"

 

The response caused Dean's brows to draw together in a tight expression of confusion. Castiel felt the butterflies return to his stomach and silently cursed himself; why was it that the simplest things seemed to have the strongest effect on him? "Why does heaven care if Harry meets Sally?"

 

"Mostly they don't," the cherub explained. "You know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies. Like yours. The union of John and Mary Winchester, _very_ big deal upstairs, top priority arrangement."

 

"Are you saying you fixed up our parents?"

 

"Well, not me, but yeah! They couldn't stand each other at first but by the time we were done with them, perfect couple!"

 

"Perfect?" Dean repeated, his tone quiet and dangerous as his anger began to get the best of him. "They're dead!"

 

Without really thinking about it this time, Castiel reached out and touched Dean's shoulder again. Attempting to comfort him was as natural as breathing. When Dean seemed to once more relax somewhat beneath his attentions the angel felt a spark of hope. Perhaps his card, and his time, would not be a complete waste. This was, after all, the second time in five minutes that he'd touched Dean without any kind of negative reaction.

 

"I'm sorry," the cherub said, his tone sincere. "But the orders were clear, you and Sam had to be born. Your parents were just...meant to be!" the cherub grinned and began to sing as his naturally bubbly nature overwhelmed him. Castiel saw Dean snap seconds before his fist lashed out, though the strike did far more damage to him than to the cherub, who gave the hunter a startled look before he vanished.

 

"Where'd he go!" Dean snapped.

 

Castiel lifted a hand to his eyes as he released a quiet sigh. "I believe you upset him."

 

"Upset him!" 

 

"Dean, enough," Sam murmured sternly. 

 

"What?"

 

"You just punched a Cupid!"

 

"I punched a dick!" Dean yelled insistently.

 

Castiel looked up in time to see Sam cast him a look of deep concern. The angel returned it with a nod, silently acknowledging it while at the same time letting Sam know that he too had seen Dean's odd behavior. He just didn't know what to do about it.

 

"Are we gonna talk about what's been up with you or not?" Sam asked.

 

"Or not!" Dean growled. He stormed around his brother and towards the door.

 

Castiel had watched the brothers enough to know what happened next. Only one was avoiding the subject, which meant that Dean would go back to the motel and brood for a while, something he would never admit to doing later. Sam, in the meantime, would go out and find something more on the case while letting his brother calm down before he approached him again. As much as Castiel wanted to know what was wrong, as much as he wanted to help, he knew now was not the time. He needed to leave them alone for a while. 

 

Besides, he still wanted one of those burgers.

 

... * ...

 

As it turned out, Castiel could not stay away for long. He manged to wait less than an hour before he returned to the motel, armed with a bag of bacon cheeseburgers he had purchased at a nearby fast food restaurant. The plan had originally been to order only one. Instead he had somehow come away with twenty. The first taste had made him finally understand why Dean liked them so much. Why he liked food at all. It was more than sustenance. It was a genuine pleasure; the texture, the taste, even the scent. Castiel was fairly certain he could eat every burger in the bag without getting tired of them. 

 

Dean was alone when he appeared inside the room. He was sitting at the end of the bed, arms resting on his knees, eyes staring blankly at the wall, appearing for all the world lost in thought. He flinched and reached for his gun on instinct when he spotted Cas, but relaxed instantly when he saw who it was. Curiosity and surprise flooded his expressive eyes when he saw the bag in the angel's hand. "Are those burgers?"

 

Castiel nodded. Concern suddenly blossomed without warning inside him and he came forward, holding the bag out invitingly towards the hunter. "Do you want one? You still haven't eaten." He took a step closer, thrusting the bag hopefully right against Dean's chest. It wasn't good that he hadn't eaten. Humans needed food. 

 

The hunter looked down into the bag, his gaze somewhat skeptical. Then he shrugged and reached in to pull one out. "Thanks. You have enough in there?" He chuckled quietly and Cas felt that tiny smile at his lips again; good, he was joking. That meant he was feeling better.

 

The angel set the bag down, after pulling another one out for himself, and sat down beside Dean. The card in his pocket felt suddenly like a weight, pulling harshly at him the longer he refused to speak. Nervously, he took a bite of his sandwich. He reached into his pocket and touched the card. The butterflies returned with a vengeance, so frantic that he felt he was on the razor edge of pain. The burger in his hand became momentarily revolting, so he set it down on the bag behind him. For several long seconds he sat still, fingering the card and casting side glances at the oblivious hunter. Finally, before he could lose the nerve, he pulled it free and set it on Dean's leg. Then he clasped his hands in his lap, fingers fidgeting nervously together, and waited.

 

"What's this?" Dean reached down and lifted the card to eye level. Almost immediately he started to laugh, though it was not at all unkind. "Dude, you're supposed to give this to someone you're interested in, not friends!"

 

Forcing himself to lift his head, Cas turned so he was partially facing the hunter and looked him straight in the eye.

 

"Oh." Was all Dean said. His laughter vanished in an instant as he looked back at the card, then back to Castiel. "Are you sure? You're kind of new at this whole human emotion thing, maybe you're getting friendship mixed up with something else."

 

The angel let his surprise at Dean's oddly calm reaction come and go. It had never occurred to him that his affection for Dean might be something as simple as friendship. There was too much intensity, too many nerves. Then again, as Dean had pointed out, he was new to human emotion. He decided to describe the sensation, to the best of his ability. Dean would know if he were mistaken.

 

"Every time you smile, I want to smile. When you frown when you're confused, I get that feeling in my stomach, you said it meant I was nervous. When I hear my phone ring I smile because you set the tone. I like your references even though I don't understand them. I like that you find me funny. I like touching you, and I like it when you touch me." Castiel stopped, unable to further describe the emotions, though he knew it was so much more than what he'd managed. The fact that humans not only felt such things on a regular basis but for the most part were able to deal with and express them so fully was beginning to truly amaze him. "Have I made a mistake?" He asked finally.

 

Dean had turned back to the card again, his expression blank as he listened to the angel. That worried Cas, Dean was always reacting in some manner or another. "No," he murmured suddenly. "You know, if you were anyone else this would bother me."

 

With that Dean tucked the card into his coat pocket and set into his burger. Nothing further was said, but Castiel had the feeling that it was okay, so he picked up his own burger and the two ate quietly, staying close and comfortably silent. 

 

Somehow, Castiel ended up eating the rest of the burgers in the bag by himself. Instead of feeling satisfied, however, he felt an intense need for more, and without thinking he went back to the restaurant. Too many more, he thought with no small amount of worry when he went through another bag and brought another back with him. This wasn't normal. Had his vessel been alone in the body he would have been dead by now. As it was Castiel thought he should have felt at least a small amount of discomfort. 

 

Sam had returned to the motel. The brothers were standing in front of the table, staring at a suitcase sitting there with more caution that such a simple object really deserved. Within the magically bound confines Cas sensed the clue that finally allowed him to put the pieces together. 

 

As he watched the brothers opened the suitcase. The second it realized it was free the blinding essence inside dissipated, leaving the hunters to stare into the empty space with twin expressions of bewilderment. 

 

"What the hell was that!" Dean barked.

 

"A human soul," Castiel answered. "It's starting to make sense."

 

As one the brothers turned to face him, their confusion only made stronger by his answer. "What about that makes sense?" Sam asked, pointing back towards the now empty case.

 

"And when did you start eating, anyway?" Dean asked. Castiel thought he heard a touch of concern in his voice. Was it his imagination? Did he even possess one? "I mean, okay, one or two I get but this is what? Thirty?"

 

"Exactly! My hunger is a clue, actually."

 

"For what?" The two asked as one. Sometimes it amazed Castiel how in tune the brothers were to each other. They had to be to speak so perfectly in sync as often as they did. He wondered if they knew just how rare that kind of close connection was.

 

"This town isn't suffering from some love gone wrong effect. It's suffering from hunger." He held up the burger in his hand to emphasize his point. "Starvation, to be exact, specifically...Famine."

 

"Famine?" Sam repeated. "As in the horseman?"

 

Cas simply nodded.

 

"Great!" Dean bust out exasperatedly. "That's just freaking great!"

 

"I thought famine meant starvation, as in, you know, food." Sam waved a hand towards the bag tucked under Castiel's arm. 

 

"Yes, absolutely, but not just food. Everyone seems to be starving for something. Sex, attention, drugs. Love." As he said the last his eyes flicked unconsciously towards Dean with a kind of shy hopefulness. 

 

"Well that explains the puppy lovers that Cupid shot up," Dean said. He didn't so much as glance towards the angel.

 

Cas kept his eyes on the hunter a moment longer, waiting to see if he would look his way, or say something, or react at all. When he didn't he shifted his gaze to stare down at his bag, feeling an odd, empty sensation in his chest that he didn't quite understand. "Right. The cherub made them crave love. Then Famine came and made them rabid for it."

 

"Okay, but what about you?" Dean took a few steps in his direction and gestured towards the bag, though he still refused to look at him directly. "Since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?"

 

What? Oh, right, the fast food joint. "It's my vessel. Jimmy. His appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect." He turned partially away from the brothers, feeling a sudden embarrassment that was far easier to place than his previous sensation. He wanted to put down the bag, to kick it into a corner and forget it existed, yet he couldn't bring himself to even let go of it. The mere thought of doing so caused a near physical pain that only confirmed his idea.

 

"So Famine rolls into town and everyone goes crazy?" It was one of those questions Dean asked that he didn't actually expect to be answered. As far as Cas could tell it was his way of confirming things to himself when he was having a hard time believing them. It had taken him a long time to discover that he usually wasn't supposed to say anything but this time he felt the need to make an exception.

 

"And then will come Famine, riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty. And great will be the horseman's hunger for he is hunger. His hunger will seep out and poison the air." Damn it. He was still hungry himself. The feeling drove him to pull another burger from the bag even as his brain attempted to inform him that this was a bad idea. "Famine is hungry. He must devour the souls of his victims."

 

A thoughtful expression creased Dean's brow, similar to his confused look but slightly less intent. It still had the same effect. Castiel wondered somewhat whimsically how there could possibly still be room in his stomach for butterflies. 

 

"So that's what was in the briefcase. Twinkie dude's soul." When Dean turned to face him his eyes were disturbed, more disturbed than they usually would have been, which made Castiel frown. That expression was usually reserved for Sam, who, despite everything he'd been through, was still the more sensitive of the two. 

 

"Lucifer has sent his demons to care for Famine," Castiel replied. "To feed him, make certain he'll be ready."

 

"Ready for what?" Sam asked hesitantly. That same hesitance was painfully present in his eyes, screaming that he didn't truly want to know, no matter how necessary the information was.

 

The angel didn't want to tell him. He wanted to shield the hunters, protect them from the darkness and the threats that seemed to endlessly emerge from it. The need was something that had developed with their friendship, and though it hadn't stopped him yet he found the fight growing more and more difficult with each passing day. "To march across the land," he said finally.

 

Without warning Sam abruptly turned and darted into the bathroom. Cas stared after him, concern blossoming in his chest as he wondered if Famine's effects had touched him in some way. He sat at the edge of the bed, eyes lingering on the open door as he went to reach into his bag again.

 

Oh. He was out.

 

"So this town is just going to eat, drink and screw itself to death?" Sam called. Castiel thought he sounded breathless, which only increased his concern.

 

"We should stop it," he said simply, before he realized he'd stated the obvious again, as Dean put it. 

 

"Hey, that's a great idea. How?" Dean practically spat the last word, flinging it at Cas the way he had flung his anger at the cherub. The angel felt a sudden wrench in his guts, something like the nervousness but so much more. He felt his eyes widen and discovered an intense, contradicting need to lean away from Dean, yet at the same time to go to him, to find out what he'd done wrong. 

 

"How did you stop the last horseman?" Castiel snapped back. He hadn't meant to sound harsh, yet he felt oddly defensive. What was happening? Was Dean angry with him?

 

Dean turned and walked over to his coat, searching through pockets until he produced a ring. "War got his mojo from this ring." He turned and held it up so Cas could see it. His eyes were now dead, not calm but absolutely empty. Cas felt that wrenching again and realized he was frightened, not for himself but for Dean. "Then after we cut it off he just tucked tail and ran. Everybody that was effected, it was like they woke up out of a dream. You think Famine's got a class ring, too?"

 

The angel didn't even bother asking what class ring was. "I know he does," he replied simply.

 

"Great!" Something came back into Dean's eyes, a spark of determination. "Let's track him down and get to choppin'!"

 

"Yeah," Cas agreed absently. He stared forlornly into his empty bag but resisted the urge to go back to get more, if only to prove to himself that he could.

 

The hunter cast him an incredulous glance. "What are you, the hamburglar?"

 

Castiel felt another one of those tiny smiles flicker across his lips; that one he could figure out on his own. "I've developed a taste for it," he replied. It was true, even after Famine's effects were gone he knew he would eat again, though perhaps something different for a while.

 

"Sam, let's roll!" Dean called. 

 

Cas flicked his eyes up towards the open door. He could see only half of Sam's body, and his head was ducked down towards the sink. Even over the running water he could hear his breathing growing heavier. 

 

"Dean. I...I can't." Sam turned and slumped against the door frame, panting hard, fiddling nervously with a wet washcloth that hung from his hands. "I can't go."

 

"What do you mean?" Dean didn't understand what was wrong, but in a sudden flare of clarity Castiel did.

 

_Oh Sam, I'm sorry._

 

Sam's eyes began to dart guiltily around the room, looking for anything to latch onto that wasn't his brother's gaze. "I think it got to me. I think I'm hungry for it," he murmured.

 

"Hungry for what?" Dean practically growled, that anger once again building within him. He didn't want to believe it. Cas felt himself reaching out again, wanting to comfort, but when he touched the hunter's shoulder Dean whipped around and glared at him with such heat that Cas not only pulled his hand away but actually leaned back, nearly falling backwards onto the bed. Their eyes locked for a moment, Dean's hard, Castiel's wide and confused, almost frightened. Unbidden, his gaze darted towards the token of his affection concealed in Dean's pocket. Had it bothered the hunter and he'd simply not said anything? 

 

Though it felt like hours, the contact lasted only mere seconds before Dean was turning back to his brother, that heat morphing into concern as he met Sammy's eyes. 

 

"You know."

 

"Demon blood?" Dean still said it like a question.

 

Sam's eyes were full of shame as he lowered his gaze to the floor and nodded. 

 

"You've gotta be kidding me." Dean whipped around, his concern now keeping at bay the anger he'd felt towards the angel only seconds before. "You gotta get him out of here. You've gotta beam him to like, Montana, anywhere but here!"

 

"It won't work, he's already infected," Castiel said tersely. He was feeling defensive again, a reaction to the fear, he thought, and it showed in the sharpness of his voice and his narrowed gaze. "The hunger's just going to travel with him."

 

"Then what do we do?" Dean's tone was desperate now, his eyes pleading as he stared down at the angel. Cas felt an irrational, childish need to keep that help from him. 

 

"You go cut that bastard's finger off," Sam ground out, saving Castiel from answering. "But Dean, before you go you better...you better lock me down. Good."

 

Castiel saw the pain flare brightly in Dean's eyes, immediately negating the pettiness and the nerves that had been building in him so that he once again wanted to comfort the hunter, though this time he held himself back. "I'll be right back," Dean murmured. 

 

Sam continued to lean in the doorway. His breath came in short bursts while his hands continued to spastically grasp at the cloth in his hands. His roving eyes came to focus on the angel. Cas could see the hunger in them, and the fear, only barely held in check by what little self control remained to the hunter. "Did you give him the card?"

 

He wanted to know this now? At first it seemed strange, until Castiel realized it was exactly what Sam needed. A distraction.

 

"Yes." Cas sighed quietly. "I think I angered him."

 

"Why? What did he do?"

 

The angel glanced towards the door Dean had left open. Half his body had disappeared into the trunk of the Impala as he dug through the multitudes of bags and boxes in search of what he needed. Assured that the older hunter was safely out of earshot, Castiel turned back to Sam. "At the time I thought it was alright. He thought I was mistaken in my feelings until I explained them. He said if it were anyone else it would bother him. Then he put the card in his pocket and didn't say anything else. I thought his acceptance of the card was a good thing but when I tried to touch him just now he glared at me. Before he was snapping at me."

 

Sam started to chuckle, then sucked in a sudden, harsh breath and lifted the cloth to his face. He rubbed it vigorously across his eyes for a moment before lowering it again. "That just means he's confused. It means he's thinking about it. That's a good thing. Just give him a while, remember he's straight and not all that bright, sometimes." This time the both of them shared a chuckle. "Speaking of which, do angels have a...a sexual preference? That seems weird."

 

Castiel shook his head. "Angels don't have genders in the same way that humans do, so no, we don't have a preference. To us it's simply love, there is no need for reproduction, so we love the soul and not the body. It's also extremely rare for an angel to fall in love with a human."

 

"You're a rare case," Sam said quietly, with a small smile, and Castiel felt a sense of warmth because he knew it was meant as a compliment.

 

The sound of the trunk slamming closed startled them both, Sam more visibly than Cas. Dean returned carrying a pair of handcuffs. The look he gave his little brother was so pained that Castiel found himself fighting the urge to comfort him yet again.

 

"Sink?" Sam asked.

 

"Sounds good," Dean replied gruffly.

 

The angel waited outside while Dean handcuffed Sam to the pipes of the sink. He listened as the older brother spoke in a low, rough voice, reassuring his baby brother that they'd be back as soon as they could. Did Sam know how lucky he was to have that kind of love? No one seemed to truly realize just how hard it was to come by.

 

When Dean emerged he closed the door, then nodded to Cas. Standing, the angel crossed the room to the heavy cabinet that stood near the bathroom and slid it easily in front of the door, just in case. For a moment Dean stood still, staring at the cabinet as though he wanted to smash it to a thousand pieces. Then he seemed to shake himself and turned to face Cas. "Let's go talk to Dr. Corman again, see if any new bodies have turned up."

 

The drive to the medical center was made in tense silence. Though Castiel wanted nothing more than to ask directly if he had made Dean angry he continued to remind himself that Dean was thinking about it, that he had to be patient. Pushing would only make it worse. Wouldn't it? He missed the peace and quiet in the park, before his phone had rung. He wished he could return to it until the hunter had worked through his thoughts. 

 

Resolving to keep quiet, Cas relaxed back against the seat. Music by Kansas was playing from the radio at a lower volume than usual, threatening to cloud over his confused thoughts. Though a part of him was surprised he knew the name of the band another part really wasn't; Dean insisted on telling him the name of every song and band that played when the angel was around. What was it called again? Point...

 

"Point of No Return," Dean said abruptly. Cas realized he was staring quite intently at the radio. 

 

"Ah," he said simply. "I recognized the band."

 

He glanced at Dean then, hoping this would get him something, even the smallest reaction. A quick, slightly reluctant grin flitted across Dean's lips. "My good taste is wearing off on you."

 

Castiel tried smiling back, a real smile this time, not the tiny curls that the corners of his lips had been managing. It still felt strange to smile, a foreign twist to a mouth that had previously moved only to speak, so he didn't quite manage a full one, though it still felt good. It was like laughing. They were things he wanted to learn to do more often, more fully. 

 

Dean made him smile. Dean made him laugh.

 

The angel followed behind Dean when they arrived at the hospital. He had a tendency to get lost and Dean always seemed so sure of where he was going and what he was doing. If he were honest with himself, he liked having someone to follow again. Especially since he was following because he _wanted_ to, not because he _had_ to. 

 

As it turned out, Dr. Corman was dead. The young doctor who met them in the hall told them that he had gone home and drank himself to death, after twenty years of being dry. He'd left the two of them alone in the room, which gave Castiel a chance to find out whether or not the doctor's soul had left his body yet. 

 

"Crap," Dean muttered as the angel laid a hand over the dead doctor's chest. "I really kind of liked this guy."

 

The bright, warm presence of the soul remained within it's shell. It had not yet accepted that it was time to leave. Castiel wondered if the demons had set up traps for the Reapers to prevent them from taking the souls before they were able to get to them. "They haven't harvested his soul yet."

 

Dean only nodded. "So, if we want to play follow the soul to get to Famine, our best shot starts with the doc here."

 

Castiel nodded in agreement and stepped back from the body. He only hoped that this soul wasn't consumed before they could rescue it. It was a good soul. It belonged in it's much deserved peace. 

 

"Okay, so we'll wait in the car until the demon shows up." 

 

"I'll meet you there," Cas said, and vanished before Dean could protest.

 

When he reappeared in the car beside the hunter he held in his arm another bag of cheeseburgers. Dean's eyebrows shot up as he watched the angel unwrap and set into one. "Are you serious?"

 

Cas smiled, the biggest smile he'd managed all day. "These make me...very happy."

 

Dean rolled his eyes and turned away. For some reason Castiel found the move endearing, in a rather childish sort of way. "How many is that?"

 

"Lost count," Castiel replied without hesitation. "It's in the low hundreds."

 

Despite the wince this comment brought to the hunter's face he stilled whistled, a low sound that stated he might have been just a tiny bit impressed. 

 

"What I don't understand is what's your hunger?" Castiel swallowed his mouthful and lowered the sandwich, turning to look at Dean even though the hunter would not look back. 

 

The man shrugged. "When I want a drink, I drink. When I want sex, I go get it. Same goes for a sandwich or a fight."

 

"So, you're saying you're just well adjusted?"

 

Dean laughed, a low, hollow sort of laugh, though there was something in his eyes that said the idea may have amused him a little. "Hell no! I'm just well fed."

 

A slight shudder passed through the angel at the mention of hell. It amazed him that Dean could still utter the word. It spoke volumes about the inner strength he didn't even believe he had. 

 

"Cas?"

 

Something had changed. That single word was spoken with such soft anxiety, behind which a question without form lurked in waiting. Cas felt a sudden bolt of unexplainable sensation alight the nerves of his body, focusing his attention on Dean more sharply. When he spoke, his voice was slightly breathless. "Yes?"

 

Dean was still staring steadfastly out the window, yet Castiel could see the change in his demeanor; the tense line of his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw. Unlike his earlier anger, this wasn't as hard, as harsh. Was it due to the same nerves the angel himself was feeling? "Do you really..." he turned abruptly, so that he was looking Castiel straight in the eye. "Do you really want me..." again he trailed off. He chuckled softly, sounding far more nervous than amused. "Well, I guess that's it. Do you really want me?"

 

Castiel refused to let himself look away, no matter how much the butterflies protested. "Yes."

 

He had no warning. One moment Dean was sitting there, eyes conflicted, afraid, yet firmly resolved. The next his lips were against Castiel's, hesitant and uncertain but so _sweet._ The bag of food fell from Castiel's lap, the touch of Famine forgotten completely in the face of pure, wondrous _need._ The angel had never kissed before, never been kissed, and he had no idea how to go about it. For a second he froze, terrified that he would get it wrong and drive Dean away. Then he surrendered to the body, allowed it to show him what to do. 

 

His head wanted to tilt, so he tilted, and discovered that it locked him perfectly against the hunter. He wanted to touch, so he lifted his hands and threaded them into Dean's hair, reveling in the softness against his fingers. One of Dean's own hands came up and cupped the back of his head, not forceful but instead so very, unexpectedly gentle. His lips moved carefully against the angel's, soft and questing, tentatively exploring this new territory. Cas tried opening his mouth and sweeping his tongue with questioning hesitance over Dean's lips. The answering moan was greatly encouraging.

 

When Dean finally drew back, just enough to catch his breath, his eyes were curious. Interested. _Heated._ Cas felt himself shudder, but this time it was a delicious sensation that sent tingles down his spine. "You know what? That didn't suck."

 

"That's a good thing, right?" Castiel murmured hopefully.

 

Dean laughed quietly. "Yeah. That's a good thing."

 

"Good," Cas said simply. "I don't know what I'm doing."

 

Dean grinned. "I'll show you. But not right now. We should be watching."

 

Castiel nodded in agreement. "Later?" His eyes were wide and pleading; he was terrified this moment wouldn't last, or worse, would not come again. 

 

"Yeah." Dean leaned forward, placing a single, chaste kiss to Cas's lips. "I promise."

 

With that he settled back into his seat, his eyes set firmly on the hospital door once more. The angel felt his first true grin settling across his lips, urged into being by the warm sense of happiness swelling inside him. On autopilot he reached down and retrieved the bag, though after the kiss the sandwich seemed bland. 

 

"Hey," Dean muttered suddenly. He coughed in a way that seemed like a cover for discomfort. "I don't really know what I'm doing, either. Just so you know. I've never been into a guy. But I guess you're not just a guy, you know? Whatever, I just mean...don't expect much."

 

"I expected nothing," Castiel said honestly.

 

The hunter's shoulders shook slightly, as though he'd laughed. "Guess I won't disappoint, then. Oh, oh god. What am I gonna tell Sammy?"

 

"He knows," Castiel assured him easily. 

 

"What?" Dean whipped around, his eyes wide and clearly horrified. "You told him?!"

 

"I needed advice. He doesn't mind. He was amused, actually."

 

Surprise flooded in to wash away the horror, followed quickly by an amusement of his own. "He doesn't? Huh. Well, good. He'll understand when I kick him out of the motel for the night."

 

The butterflies were back, sharper than ever but now tinged with something new, something more, that he didn't understand. When he mentioned it to Dean the hunter only smiled and said it meant he was excited.

 

"Showtime," Dean murmured suddenly. 

 

Glancing passed him, Castiel saw a man in a black suit striding out of the hospital, carrying a briefcase identical to the one Sam and Dean had acquired earlier. Dean waited until he'd climbed into an SUV waiting down the street before he started up the car.

 

The feelings that had been so strong in Castiel began to fade. He found his hunger had returned, causing him to finger the empty wrappers in his lap restlessly. In fact, the hunger increased the longer they drove, drowning out everything around him. He was aware of Dean speaking, aware even of the words being absorbed into his mind, though the knowledge was distant and seemingly unimportant. He felt when the car stopped, felt a knife being pressed into his hand but again, it was oddly insignificant. Nothing mattered but getting more meat, he thought. Nothing at all.

 

"Hey! Happy meal!" The sudden bark was enough to make Cas jump. With extreme difficulty he tore his gaze away from the wrapper in his hands. "The plan?" Dean pressed. He reached across the car and prodded at Castiel's shoulder, as though hoping it would help to ground him. 

 

The plan, right. Cas forced himself to remember the words floating uselessly around in his mind. "I take the knife, I go in, I cut the ring off the hand of Famine and I meet you back here in the parking lot."

 

Dean sat back, his expression anything but reassured. "Sounds foolproof," he muttered sarcastically. 

 

"Foolproof," Castiel echoed distantly. Why was he here? Famine! 

 

Without really focusing on the intent, Castiel found himself inside the diner. An old man with the haggard appearance of a person reaching for death sat in a wheelchair roughly in the center of the room, surrounded by the demons sent to care for him. 

 

_I'm supposed to be doing something for Dean,_ Castiel thought hazily as he stared at the man before him. The feeling of insatiable hunger that had been bothering him all day began to intensify, a painful need that had him searching the room restlessly with his eyes, seeking anything that would calm it. The old man smiled but the expression looked sickened somehow. Castiel thought he wanted to be repulsed by it but instead he just cocked his head and looked at him curiously. Did Famine have what he needed?

 

"I know what you want," Famine said, his voice thin, weak, yet highly amused. He lifted a shaking hand and motioned for one of the demons to come closer. He said something to him quietly, too quietly for Cas to hear.

 

_Dean needs me to do something._ The thought persisted, trying it's best to break the iron grip Famine had on him. The angel tried closing his eyes, hoping that the darkness would bring him some form of clarity. 

 

Something metal crashed to the floor near his feet. Cas's eyes flicked towards it...and then the world narrowed, focusing sharply on the pan of raw, red meat. Nothing else existed but the surge of his hunger. Nothing...but a small, persistent voice in the back of his mind, repeating the same word over and over as the angel fell to his knees and reached into the slick, bloody mess before him.

 

_Dean, Dean, Dean..._

 

"Cas!"

 

The sudden cry startled the angel enough to turn partially away from the pan. Two demons had a tight hold on Dean, yet the hunter had still managed to twist his head around in order to see if Castiel was alright. A surge of such intense affection rushed through him that he was able, if only for a second, to fight off Famine's effects. 

 

"What did you do to him?!" Dean growled as he twisted back to face the horseman.

 

"You sicced your dog on me, I just threw him a steak," the horseman replied calmly.

 

"So this is your big trick, huh? Makin' people coo-coo for cocoa puffs?" It was said with the kind of bravado Dean used when he was trying to convince himself he wasn't afraid. Castiel was used to being confused by Dean's constant use of references he had no knowledge of, yet this time he felt the tiny part of his brain that was still in control resolve to ask just what the _hell_ that one meant.

 

Famine sneered. "Doesn't take much. Hardly a push. America, all you can eat all the time. Consume, consume, a swarm of locusts in stretch pants. And yet you're all still starving because hunger doesn't just come from the body it also comes from the soul."

 

Dean smirked. "Funny, it doesn't seem to be coming from mine."

 

"Yes, I noticed that," the horseman replied with no small amount of interest. "Have you wondered why that is? How you can even walk in my presence?"

 

"I'd like to think it's because of my strength of character," Dean quipped lightly. 

 

"I disagree," Famine answered, as though they were having a perfectly civilized conversation. 

 

Though he couldn't stop himself from eating, Castiel found he was able to keep himself partially twisted around so that he could watch. The horseman had pressed a lever on the chair that was bringing him towards Dean, hand outstretched to touch him. The hunter struggled uselessly against the demons, trying his best to step back, to get away. The ancient, withered hand came to rest against his chest. Almost immediately Dean's body tensed and he let out a choked cry of pain. Anger crashed through the angel, anger at the horseman for hurting his hunter, anger at himself for being unable to break Famine's hold. 

 

"Yes, I see," Famine sat back with an oddly satisfied smile. "That's one deep, dark _nothing_ you've got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food, or drink, not even with sex." 

 

Cas felt a bolt of pure dread rush down his spine and settle in his stomach. If that was true, had the kiss meant anything to him? Or had it simply been a desperate attempt to fill that hole? 

 

"You're so full of crap," Dean gasped, his voice sure and confident. Cas only hoped it was real and not one of his many masks. 

 

The horseman began to laugh. "You can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me! I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are. How defeated. You can't win and you know it but you just keep fighting, just keep going through the motions. You're not hungry because inside you're already dead!"

 

"Dean..." Castiel had no idea how he managed to ground out the name, or when he'd cleared his mouth enough to do it. All he knew was that Dean's eyes were pained, his expression slack in a way that said the horseman had hit home. He was telling the truth. 

 

_Not with food, or drink, not even sex._

 

But he'd missed something. Something just as vital, perhaps more so in the end, than those three things.

 

"Let him go!"

 

Oh, _no._

 

Sam.

 

A quiet, whirring sound filled the air as the horseman turned his chair to face the bloody young man standing behind him. His eyes, his entire being, lit with what appeared to be genuine pleasure when he saw Sam, saw the blood on his lips and the power that fairly crackled in the air around him.

 

"Sammy, no!" Dean cried, the pain in his eyes lashing into his voice, trying in vain to reach his brother.

 

Pain. If Dean felt pain then he couldn't be empty. Not all of what the horseman said was true.

 

Two of the demons started forward, towards Sam, but before they had even taken a full step the horseman commanded them to stop. Instantly, they froze, displeasure at the command warring with an intense fear in their eyes. 

 

"No one," Famine said more quietly. "Lays a finger on this sweet, little boy. Sam, I see you got the snack I sent you."

 

The younger brother looked only partially surprised. "You sent?"

 

"Don't worry, you're not like everyone else, you'll never die from drinking too much. You're the exception, just the way Satan wanted you to be. So..." The horseman held up his hands, indicating the demons around him. "Cut their throats!"

 

"Sammy, _no_!" Dean cried again, every trace of his considerable will forced into that last word. Castiel could see the insane hope in his eyes that he could somehow drive those words through his little brother's blood-drugged mind. 

 

Sam stood there, breathing harshly, his eyes darting between demons with a hunger so intense and clear that Castiel felt his own was pale in comparison. When he lifted his hand the angel thought he was going to give in. Instead, Sam closed his eyes and began to clench his fingers. The bodies the demons had possessed began to scream as their essence was forced from them. Black smoke poured out of wide open mouths, forming a writhing mass as their shells fell unconscious, or likely dead, to the floor. 

 

With a gasp, Sam lowered his hand. "No!" he growled determinedly, even as his hands shook and he stared with great longing towards the circle of bodies around the horseman's chair. 

 

"Fine," Famine answered easily. The smile one his face remained, as though he were doting on the most precious being that existed. "If you don't want them, I'll have them."

 

The black smoke began to rise rapidly towards the horseman's open mouth, but Castiel paid it no mind. His attention had focused on Dean's face, on the pain and the relief that had flooded his gaze when Sammy had turned down Famine's offer. In that moment Cas felt that if he looked away he would lose himself. 

 

Dean moved quickly now that he was free of the demons. He retrieved the knife that Castiel had thrown to the floor, but instead of moving on the horseman he twisted around and came to kneel in front of the angel. "Cas? You in there?"

 

"I'm a horseman, Sam," Famine said suddenly. Dean's gaze flicked up towards his little brother, though he remained knelt in front of his angel. "Your power doesn't work on me."

 

"You're right." Sam's voice was a dark tone of triumph. "But it will work on them."

 

Seconds later the horseman began to scream. Just like that his touch lifted, so fiercely and suddenly that it came as a sharp shock to the angel's system. With the hunger gone the meat before him became repulsive. He felt himself lurch backwards, so abruptly that he lost his footing, though he never touched the floor. Dean was there in seconds, grasping his arms and pulling him upright. An arm came to rest on his shoulders, warm and heavy and comforting. "You okay?" Dean murmured roughly. 

 

Castiel nodded. He reached up to wipe away any traces around his mouth with his sleeve. "I'm okay," he replied. "Sam isn't."

 

Dean grunted, a reluctant sound of acknowledgment. "I know. Let's get him to Bobby's."

 

"The ring."

 

The hunter's gaze fell to the knife in his hand. "Damn, almost forgot. Hang on."

 

Striding over to the unconscious form of the horseman, Dean rather viciously sliced off the ring finger, despite the fact that he could have simply removed the ring. Castiel couldn't blame him for wanting to cause a bit of pain. Not after what the horseman had done to Sam. 

 

Once the ring had been safely tucked away in a pocket, the one furthest away from where he was keeping Castiel's card, the angel noticed, he came to stand beside him again. "Will you beam him there? I'll follow in the car."

 

Cas nodded in agreement; it was better to get him there quickly than try to have all three of them go at the same time. "See you soon," he said softly.

 

... * ...

 

Sam had begun to scream and pound against the panic room door moments before Castiel heard Dean's car pull in. Immediately, he went to meet him outside, unable to bear another moment of his friend's desperate cries. Every fiber of his being wanted to throw open the door and find a way to ease Sam's pain. Standing so close only made the temptation perilously hard to ignore.

 

Dean was just stepping away from the Impala when Castiel opened the door. "How is he?" the hunter asked, the hesitance in his eyes saying he feared the answer.

 

"Not well," Castiel replied truthfully. "The worst of it has just started. He doesn't have as much in his system as last time, hopefully it will pass quickly."

 

Dean nodded and slumped suddenly against the car. At first glance it appeared to be exhaustion, but a second, closer inspection revealed something the angel would not have expected from the hardened hunter. Shyness. A small, fond smile briefly curved Castiel's lips as he went to stand in front of Dean. He stood quietly, waiting for Dean to speak first. It would give him the control the angel somehow knew he needed just then. 

 

"Cas..." Dean let out a harsh, frustrated sigh. His weight shifted uncomfortably against the car before he lifted his head. His gaze almost, but not quite, met Castiel's. "When the horseman said I was...empty. That's not really true. I'm just burned out. The only thing I had left to lean on was Sammy."

 

"Had," Castiel echoed.

 

"Yeah, well...guess I got you now, too," Dean murmured. He ducked his head again, embarrassedly this time, and dug at the dirt with the toe of his boot. Just as quickly he looked up again, making himself meet the angel's eyes this time. "I don't know how to start this," he admitted helplessly.

 

Neither did Cas, but Dean had jump started them and now he needed the angel to take the next step. "You need some sleep," Castiel said simply. "And some real food. You need to see your brother well again. Then we'll see what happens."

 

For a moment Dean didn't react at all, and Cas feared he had somehow made the wrong move. Then, without any warning, the hunter took a step forward and kissed the angel, just a quick, chaste kiss, yet it thrilled Castiel as much as their first. 

 

"Thanks, Cas," Dean murmured. Then he added, with a small smile, "Food first."

 

Side by side the two walked towards the house, their hands brushing together every so often as they moved. "Bobby doesn't have real food," Dean mentioned rather inanely.

 

"I'll go get you some," Castiel offered. 

 

"Nah. We'll get real food later."

 

They found a half eaten sausage pizza in the fridge, which was about as real as food got for Dean. Part of Castiel wanted to try a piece, but the experience with Famine was still too close in his mind. The very thought of eating again made him shudder with revulsion, so instead he simply watched as Dean polished off two slices. When he was finished Castiel led him to the old, worn sofa in the living room. The hunter was so tired that getting him to lay down was easy. The angel pulled an even worse for wear blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over the hunter before seating himself in a nearby chair. 

 

"Gonna stare at me till I fall asleep?" Dean asked tiredly. His eyes had already closed.

 

"Yes," Castiel replied simply, with a small smile. 

 

Dean gave a quiet huff of laughter. "Mom used to say angels were watching over us," he murmured.

 

There had been a time when they _had_ been watching over mankind, Castiel thought bitterly, though he said nothing. There was no need to add to Dean's stress. He stayed silent and watched until the weary man had drifted into what appeared to be a peaceful sleep. Only then did he stand and slip silently from the room.

 

There was a resounding silence in the panic room. The angel wasn't sure whether to be worried or relieved. He reached for the slot in the door, wanting to make sure Sam was alright, when he heard the younger hunter's voice, weak and tired but so much more his own than it had been a few hours earlier.

 

"Cas? You out there?"

 

"I'm here, Sam." Castiel pulled aside the slot and looked in. Sam was resting on the floor, leaning back against the bed for support. Sweat trickled down his pale, weary face, dripping into eyes that were full of self-loathing and quiet horror. "Are you alright?"

 

Sam gave a quiet, wry chuckle. "Not really. But better. There isn't as much in my system as last time. Is Dean here yet?"

 

"Yes, he's asleep."

 

"Oh, good." Sam closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the mattress. "Is he..."

 

He didn't finish his sentence, but the question behind it hung clearly in the air between them. "He knows this isn't your fault," Castiel replied, hoping he sounded as reassuring as he thought he did.

 

Sam smiled a little in relief. "Thanks, Cas."

 

The angel slid the slot back into place and then paused. His hand dropped down to hover over the door handle, uncertainty holding him back. Was Sam far enough out of it? Yes, for this he was. He opened the door and stepped inside.

 

Sam's head snapped up from the bed, his eyes wide and startled. "No, don't let me out yet!"

 

"I'm not," Cas assured him. To emphasize the point he shut the door firmly behind him. 

 

"Oh. What are you doing, then?"

 

Instead of answering, Castiel crossed the room and sank down onto the floor beside Sam. Lifting an arm, he settled it across Sam's shoulders, remembering how good it had felt when Dean had done this for him earlier and hoping it would have the same effect for Sammy. When the young hunter relaxed into the embrace the angel felt a surge of relief. It was good to do _something_ to help.

 

"Thanks," Sam murmured.

 

"You're welcome," Castiel answered simply.

 

They sat in quiet companionship for so long that Sam began to lean more heavily against Cas as his exhaustion got the better of him. The angel shifted him just enough that Sam's head was able to rest comfortably on his shoulder. The hunter settled in with a quiet, tired sigh, and Castiel felt a surge of warmth rush through him at the knowledge that Sam trusted him enough to let him do this. 

 

"How'd things go with Dean?" Sam asked tiredly. 

 

Cas smiled slightly; the brothers sounded almost exactly the same when they were tired. "Well," he said after a moment. 

 

"Yeah? He's willing to talk about it?"

 

The smile grew wider. "He did more than talk."

 

"Really?" Sam laughed quietly and settled even further into the angel's shoulder. "That's great."

 

A soft sigh and an increase in the weight leaning against him alerted Castiel to the fact that Sam had fallen asleep. For a moment he considered moving the hunter onto the bed. He twisted his head around so he could see Sam's face. He looked peaceful, relaxed. Would he stay that way if Castiel left him alone? Who knew what the blood would do to his dreams, and he had heard something about people sleeping better when they were close to someone they trusted. So instead of moving him Castiel shifted until he was as comfortable as he could get on the hard floor, laid his cheek against Sam's hair and let himself drift into semi-consciousness.

 

The angel didn't actually need to sleep, in fact for his first several months on earth he hadn't even given a first thought to something so human. Since being barred from heaven things had changed. Castiel sometimes found himself so exhausted that he would slip into a state half way to sleep. He'd come to find it was a rather pleasant experience, so he'd allowed it to happen more and more.

 

_Castiel?_

 

It was also a good way to communicate with his vessel.

 

_Jimmy?_

 

_You're going to be here for a very long time, aren't you?_

 

_Yes._ Castiel didn't even bother trying to deny it. Even if he hadn't been trying to help the brothers he was still effectively cut off from his home. 

 

_And you're in love with Dean._

 

It wasn't a question and even in his half sleep it made Castiel smile. _Yes._

 

A sense of both peace and resolve flooded him. _Am I able to leave?_

 

The angel had suspected this might happen. Some vessels remained alive and intact for hundreds of years before an angel was done with them, and their spirits remained trapped and powerless within their own minds. Castiel had never meant to put Jimmy through it for so long. _Yes. You can leave if that's what you really want._

 

This time it was relief that shuddered from Jimmy's soul. He didn't ask what would happen to him. He had been a man of faith before his ordeal and even now he retained much of it, enough that he felt very secure in his destination. _Then I leave this body to you. Honestly, I don't really want to be in it when you get it on with Dean, anyway._

 

Castiel almost laughed aloud at that. _Goodbye, my friend. Thank you._

 

A warm surge rushed through him, a kind of wordless goodbye, before the soul freed itself from the body. A sharp shock crashed through the angel as Castiel realized he was alone in the body...a body that was now truly _his._

 

Until that moment Castiel had never realized just how little he physically felt. Sensation had always seemed so real to him, since the moment he'd taken Jimmy as his vessel, but _this..._ Castiel reached out and touched his own coat. Now he was the only one experiencing the sensation, the only one receiving the signals that said he was touching something soft from wear and cool from the chill air of the room. Sam's soft breath ghosting across the skin of his throat felt warmer than he remembered, the heavy weight of him more pronounced. His legs were beginning to ache from being in one position for too long and his neck had a slight kink in it.

 

It was incredible.

 

The angel was so distracted by the new feelings that he didn't hear the door open, didn't notice anything different until he heard Dean softly call his name. Slowly, so he wouldn't wake Sam, Cas lifted his head and met Dean's gaze. The hunter was smiling as he glanced back and forth between Cas and Sam. The warmth of that smile seemed to erase some of his earlier pain, which made Castiel smile in return.

 

"He's much better."

 

"I see that," Dean replied warmly.

 

The angel carefully got to his feet and lifted Sam up onto the bed. Once he was sure he was as comfortable as he could get he crossed the room to Dean. They shut the door almost silently, and both breathed a sigh of relief when Sammy didn't so much as stir. Then Dean made a gesture with his hand for Castiel to follow him.

 

They were climbing into the car before Cas thought to ask "Where are we going?"

 

"There's a motel a mile down the road," Dean replied as he turned the ignition. "Bobby'll keep an eye on Sammy. He's okay enough for us to leave, right?"

 

Castiel nodded. "He's through the worst of it."

 

Dean said nothing further, so Castiel leaned back in the seat, his head tilted to the side so he could watch the hunter. It took mere seconds of silence for Dean to reach for the radio. This time Castiel recognized the band instantly; it was the same one that played the song Dean had set as his ringtone.

 

"Van Halen?"

 

A grin flashed across Dean's face. "Van Halen," he confirmed. "You know, this stuff drives Sammy crazy. It's nice to have someone who doesn't mind it."

 

"I like some of Sam's music, too," Castiel admitted. Sam listened to softer music that touched on what was good in life and made it sound like it could overcome anything. 

 

“Hey...” Dean reached over suddenly and turned down the volume on the radio. There was a somewhat pensive expression creasing his brow, and just when Cas was beginning to fear that Dean was having second thoughts the hunter asked, “Where does Jimmy fit into all this?”

 

Relief made the angel go slack as he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. On a sudden impulse he reached out and touched Dean's shoulder. The simple action of setting his fingers against Dean's coat, of feeling the warmth of his body through the material, was so much _more_ than it had been when Jimmy was nothing more than his vessel. 

 

“He's gone,” Castiel murmured distractedly.

 

The shoulder beneath his fingers shifted, not away but rather pressing closer. The hunter's gaze flicked towards him briefly before returning to the road. “Upstairs?”

 

Cas gave a brief, quiet laugh at the term. “Upstairs,” He repeated. His voice was warm with his amusement. “He didn't want to stay knowing it could be a very long time before I no longer require this body.”

 

“Don't blame him,” Dean muttered. His gaze flicked towards Cas again. “Not that I blame you either,” He said quickly, as though concerned Cas would be offended somehow. “For being in...” He trailed off with a frustrated sigh. “You know?”

 

Cas smiled. Trailed his fingers down Dean's shoulder to his elbow and left them there, comfortable, connected. “I know.”

 

They made the rest of the trip in silence. The motel Dean pulled up to was small, Castiel counted only six rooms. A sign in the window told them there were vacancies, so Cas waited in the car while Dean went inside to get a room. The butterflies were back in his stomach, only they had apparently evolved into mutant butterflies with fangs and claws. He felt sick, so intensely sick that it actually hurt. The angel pressed a hand over his stomach just as Dean walked out of the tiny office with a key in his hand. 

 

“Cas?!” With the lightening reflexes of a hunter Dean was across the parking lot and ripping open the car door. He knelt right there on the pavement and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

 

Cas tilted his head to look at Dean, confused by his concern until he realized that he was breathing hard. His hand was pressed tightly over his stomach, and his features were tightly drawn in an expression of fear. He looked at Dean with wide eyes and shook his head. His throat felt as though it had closed up, so that only his harsh breathing could get passed.

 

Dean's concerned expression suddenly melted into a chuckle that was both amused and sympathetic. “You're having a panic attack.” He squeezed the shoulder beneath his hand. “It's kinda normal when you're about to do something big for the first time. Just breathe, okay? Just look at me and breathe.”

 

Looking at Dean wasn't a problem. From the very beginning Cas had _looked_ at Dean: at his soul, rotten and torn in hell; at his renewed self, standing bewildered and angry as Castiel revealed his wings. He looked at Dean now, right in the eye like he always did, in that unblinking, unguarded way that Dean had only just begun to become comfortable with. In that moment Dean's eyes were slightly amused, just as slightly nervous, but overall they were calm. Breathe, he'd said. Shakily, Cas drew in as deep a breath as his body would allow.

 

“I don't understand,” Castiel murmured. “If I want this, why am I afraid of it?”

 

Dean chuckled again. “Because you want it. Because it's...us. Because it isn't some fling that we can forget about later.” The hunter paused. “Damn, now I'm scaring myself. Alright, enough talk, come on.”

 

Using the grip he already had on Castiel's shoulder, Dean hauled the angel out of the car and began to lead him towards one of the rooms. Cas paid little attention to which one; he was still trying to remember to breathe properly. 

 

The room was small and dark, with fake wood paneling and an ugly, shaggy brown carpet. Castiel took in and discarded these details without really registering them at all. What he did register was the sound of the key clattering onto the small table beside the door. It made him jump, which struck him as so human that he actually chuckled at himself. 

 

“You okay?” Dean asked. He started to reach out to the angel but lowered his hand abruptly.

 

“I think so,” Castiel murmured. He didn't feel quite so sick now. “Why did you do that?”

 

“Do what?” Dean fiddled with the edge of his coat, his eyes not quite meeting Castiel's.

 

The angel stepped forward. Reached out and touched Dean's hand with the tips of his fingers. “You started to touch me. Then you stopped. You didn't have a problem touching me before.”

 

“Oh.” Dean glanced down at their hands and smiled nervously. “That was just, you know, helping you out. This time it's...different. And I'm clueless.”

 

Cas smiled back, though the expression was somewhat helpless. “We don't have to do anything now.” He stepped a little closer, keeping their hands barely connected. “We have all night.”

 

Dean grinned oddly, as though he wasn't sure what to do with that. “A night off. When was the last time...oh yeah, never!” The hunter glanced at their hands again, then shook himself suddenly, as though snapping out of a daze. “Okay, right. TV. You haven't seen TV yet, have you?”

 

“Not really,” Castiel answered with a shake of his head.

 

“Good start,” Dean muttered, more to himself than the angel. He slipped his hand inside Cas's and pulled him towards the bed.

 

The moment Dean's fingers curled around his own Castiel felt a surge of something warm and silly wrap around him like an embrace. Was it simply because Dean had taken his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world to do? Did it matter? 

 

Dean grabbed the remote from the bedside table and then sat with Cas on the end of the bed. For a few minutes he simply flipped through channels, muttering under his breath about crappy stations, until he finally settled on something he appeared to recognize.

 

“Man in the Iron Mask,” he explained when Cas gave him a questioning look. “No monsters to be found!” He added with a grin that could only be described as ecstatic. “You know the story about the three musketeers?”

 

“No.”

 

The hunter spent the next ten minutes trying to explain the history of the story and this particular movie's take on it. The angel liked D'artagnan immediately, probably because he was strong and loyal even though the man he served was weak and arrogant. Dean, on the other hand, seemed to like Porthos, which made perfect sense to Cas, considering their personalities were actually quite similar.

 

“I don't think I like this,” Cas declared suddenly. The king had brought the woman who had been engaged to the soldier to the palace, and even he could see what the man was intending to do. 

 

“Why not?” Dean asked without moving his eyes from the screen. 

 

“He killed that man, Raoul, just so he could take the woman.”

 

“Well...yeah.” Dean shrugged one shoulder. “He thinks he's entitled to everything. Keep watching, it gets better.”

 

Castiel's eyes narrowed doubtfully, but he did as asked.

 

When the king took the woman to his room Castiel almost looked away, until the man bent down to kiss her throat. The angel cocked his head, the way he always did when he was curious. That looked...interesting.

 

Twisting around so he was facing Dean, Cas leaned forward and hesitantly pressed his lips against Dean's throat. The moment Castiel heard Dean's sharp, quiet gasp the butterflies mysteriously vanished. A click and a sudden silence told Cas the TV had been turned off, but he hardly registered that fact as he pressed in closer. The flesh beneath his lips was rough and scarred and vaguely salty, and the most intoxicating thing he'd ever experienced.

 

“Is this okay?” He murmured.

 

“Yeah.” Dean shifted so that he could bring an arm up around Castiel's shoulders. His fingers slid slowly into Cas's hair, rubbing against his scalp in a way that sent pleasant tingles rushing down the angel's spine. “More than okay, actually.”

 

Gently, Dean used the grip he had in Castiel's hair to tilt back his head. For a moment the two simply stared at each other, letting the significance of what was about to happen sink in. When Dean just as gently leaned down and brushed his lips against Cas's it was more the breath of a caress than a kiss. Though he wanted more Castiel didn't push. He let Dean set the pace, let the hunter move against him as he wanted, and marveled at the softness of the other man's touches. Maybe it was because of the violence of the hunter's life, or just his rough personality, but Castiel hadn't expected gentleness from him.

 

Dean brushed their lips together again, then pressed a more firm kiss just to the corner of the angel's mouth. It made Castiel smile, and he decided right then and there to stop wondering _why_ certain things made him have certain reactions. All that really mattered was that they did and that, at the moment, he really liked those reactions.

 

Dean sat back a bit, not retreating, simply settling in for a different approach. His eyes traveled the length of Castiel's body, and it seemed to the angel that the shiver that rippled through him in response was somehow tethered to the hunter's gaze. The image made him laugh, quietly, the experience still too new for anything more bold. Dean grinned when he heard it, one of his full grins that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

 

“You laughed.” Dean reached up and touched Castiel's lips, which were still curved in a smile.

 

“I've laughed before,” Castiel replied. “Remember when you tried to...um...”

 

“Hook you up?” Dean chuckled at the memory; the look on the angel's face had been priceless. “Yeah, I remember. That didn't count. That was more of a chuckle. This was a laugh. It's different.”

 

“I like laughing.” Castiel bent forward until their foreheads were touching, liking the closeness. “You make me laugh.”

 

“Glad I'm useful for something,” Dean responded gruffly. He kissed Cas again, a little more firmly, a little more deeply. “Hey, Cas?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“We have _way_ too many clothes on.”

 

The angel laughed again, more fully this time, enjoying the way it filled his chest and made the world seem a distant memory. He laughed even harder when Dean growled playfully and attacked his coat as though it offended him, tearing at it in a manner that only made it more difficult to get it off. One of the hunter's hands ended up slipping half way down a sleeve while Castiel's arms were trapped at his sides, held there by the coat as it tangled around his elbows. A particularly rough yank sent them both tumbling back onto the bed in a breathless, tangled mess. Castiel found that he didn't mind in the slightest that he couldn't move his arms, that he was trapped, because it was Dean above him, Dean suddenly abandoning his war with the coat to work instead on the buttons of Cas's shirt, Dean who had him utterly helpless in more ways than one. 

 

“I'm stuck,” Cas declared when it became apparent that Dean was not going to do anything about the coat. 

 

The grin that spread across Dean's lips in response was decidedly predatory. “I know.”

 

The hunter pushed Cas's shirt open and leaned down, sealing his lips just above the angel's collar bone. Castiel sucked in a surprised breath at the jolt of pleasure the contact sent tingling across his skin. If such a simple touch caused that much sensation, what would happen when Dean reached a sensitive place?

 

The hunter abruptly lifted himself up onto his knees, then slowly, curiously, reached down and flattened both hands against Castiel's chest. For a moment he didn't move, he simply stared oddly at his own hands. Then he curled his fingertips inwards, began to work them in firm, slow circles and _oh,_ Cas _liked_ that. 

 

“Weird,” Dean muttered suddenly, though he didn't cease his movements. “I'm so used to touching...well, boobs.”

 

Castiel had to rip his attention away from the _amazing_ sensation Dean was causing in order to answer. “Is it bad?”

 

“No.” Dean shook his head. “That's what's weird. Guess it's okay cause it's you, you know? I mean, I really like you, Cas, the person...angel...whatever. So it's okay that you're a dude. Does this make any sense?”

 

“Not really,” Cas replied lightly. He didn't really care _why_ Dean liked him, so long as he did. “Will you untangle me? I want to touch you.”

 

“Nah,” Dean responded distractedly. He stopped his slow massage and instead flicked his fingers over the dusky points of the angel's nipples. A gasp rushed passed Castiel's lips as he arched into the touch, a sweet sensation that seemed to zing straight to his crotch. When Dean had taken him to that horrible place and that girl, Chastity, had taken him to the back, he couldn't remember any sensations like this, he hadn't even begun to get hard. Now, after just a few kisses and Dean's hands on his chest, he could have cut diamonds. 

 

“I kinda like you like this,” Dean continued. He rubbed his fingers more firmly across the rapidly hardening points before concerned eyes suddenly darted up to meet Castiel's. “Is that okay?”

 

Cas nodded immediately. He still wanted to touch Dean, _badly_ , but he liked this too. He liked knowing that he was at Dean's mercy, that the hunter could do whatever he wanted and Cas couldn't stop him. Well, one good pull and he could tear the coat in half, but he happened to like it. Besides, he wanted to keep up the illusion.

 

It made him feel more human. He was beginning to enjoy feeling human.

 

As soon as he'd received permission Dean leaned down and sealed his lips around Castiel's left nipple, rolling his tongue against it as he rapidly flicked a finger across the other. A low moan rumbled in the angel's chest as his hips surged upwards, the pleasure of Dean's actions driving him to seek a touch, any touch, to relieve some of the pressure growing there. He felt Dean's free hand slide onto his hip, pausing just a moment before it slid slowly across to cup him through his pants. 

 

"Whoa." Dean sat up slightly, twisting around to stare down at his hand. "That's...whoa."

 

“Is whoa good?” Cas gasped hopefully, because if it wasn't and Dean moved his hand away he was going to have a serious problem.

 

“Yeah,” Dean murmured distantly. 

 

The angel let out a strangled cry when Dean suddenly kneaded his hand. A grin flitted across the hunter's face and he did it again, more firmly. The sensation was like nothing Castiel had ever experienced before, so intense that part of him almost wanted to move away from it, while the rest of him just wanted _more._ He began to thrash against the coat, his need to touch Dean flaring into something frantic. Dean reached up and yanked it off of him before tossing it to the side, sending it slithering across the bed to disappear onto the floor. He did the same to the angel's shirt, then lifted up his arms when Cas reached out to yank his own shirt off. Castiel felt actual, sharp relief when Dean laid himself across Cas, skin against skin bringing a sense of intimacy so strong he wouldn't have thought it was possible. 

 

When Cas finally brought a hand up to touch Dean the first place he laid it seemed oddly right. He molded it perfectly to the mark on Dean's shoulder, the mark he had left when he pulled him from hell. Dean visibly shuddered, and a quiet gasp escaped him.

 

“That's new!” Dean gasped. “That...wow. That's just wow.”

 

Cas cocked his head and, experimentally, tightened his grip. The hunter let out a sharp cry and actually convulsed above him. 

 

“It feels good?” Castiel ventured, hoping it wasn't pain that was causing the hunter to shake like that. It certainly didn't seem like pain.

 

“Oh yeah. That from some left over connection or something? That's never happened with anyone else.”

 

“Probably.” Castiel shifted his hand aside. “It's not just a mark on your skin, it's a mark on your soul. A mark from my grace, so it's probably responding to my touch.” 

 

Leaning up, Cas pressed a firm kiss against the raised mark of his own palm. Dean hissed out an incomprehensible curse and bucked against the angel as Castiel began to suck gently. His hands came up and pressed themselves against Dean's chest, running slowly downwards until he reached the waistline of the hunter's jeans. Everything was hard muscle and soft, hot skin, a combination Castiel found utterly addicting. On a sudden impulse the angel abandoned the mark and wriggled downwards so that he could kiss Dean's chest, roughly in the center. His fingers slipped just inside Dean's jeans as his mouth began a curious exploration of the expanse of skin above him. Though he had no idea what he was doing, or even if he was doing it right, Castiel didn't let that stop him, and judging by the gasps falling from Dean's lips he was anything but bothered by the angel's attempts. Encouraged, Cas tried to mimic Dean's earlier actions, sealing his lips around one nipple while flicking at the other with his fingers.

 

“ _Damn,_ Cas!” Dean groaned. Castiel felt a hand close around the back of his head, holding him there, before it left just as quickly as it had come. The chest above him moved away and Cas let out a tiny sound of complaint; he'd really liked doing that!

 

The hunter chuckled as he scooted down Castiel's body. “Believe me, I'm not complaining,” he assured the angel. His fingers reached up and began to work at the button on Castiel's pants. “But if you're in the same condition I am, these are getting painful.”

 

Cas glanced down at the hands working at his fly and realized for the first time that it _was_ getting rather painful. He pushed himself up on his elbows so he could watch. Dean had the button undone and was pulling the zipper down with aching slowness, the glint of mischief in his eyes suggesting that he was enjoying the torture far too much. Anticipation flooded the angel in thick, drugging waves, making his breath pant passed his lips and his hips surge forward, desperate for any kind of contact. Dean chuckled and took pity on him, finally gripping both the pants and the boxers beneath and yanking them all the way down to the shoes both had forgotten about. Dean didn't even bother to untie them, he just pulled them straight off, until finally Castiel was completely exposed. It was a strange sensation, one that made him feel incredibly excited and extremely nervous all at once.

 

“Your turn,” Castiel said roughly when instead of removing his own jeans Dean just sat there, staring down at the angel with wide, fascinated eyes.

 

“What? Oh, right,” Dean answered distractedly. Then he grinned suddenly, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “Wanna help me?”

 

When Castiel laughed in reply the nervousness washed away, leaving only the excitement and that silly, happy feeling he was quickly growing to like. He shifted around until he was on his stomach and reached up to fumble at Dean's fly with uncertain fingers. The hunter stared down at him, eyes half lidded and heavy with lust, somehow making Cas feel a little more sure of himself. His fingers worked more confidently until he could slide the jeans and boxers down half way, allowing Dean to kick them the rest of the way off.

 

Dean's cock was at full attention, almost flat against his belly. Castiel stared a moment, his head cocked in his usual curious manner, before he leaned forward on another sudden impulse and pressed his open mouth against the base. From the sharp cry Dean released, Castiel guessed that had been a good idea.

 

Shifting up onto his elbows so he would have easier access, Cas leaned forward and flicked his tongue experimentally across the head of Dean's cock. The hunter's hips jerked forward and hands slid into his hair, gripping almost too tightly and tugging encouragingly, so Castiel opened his mouth and took in as much of Dean as he could manage without choking.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Cas!” Dean shouted, his fingers tightening erratically in Castiel's hair.

 

A new sensation enveloped Castiel, something that made him want to smile despite his hot, hard mouthful. It was...satisfaction. He liked hearing Dean lose control, liked knowing that he was the reason for it. He slid up just a bit, then down again, rolling his tongue against the base as he did so, hoping for another sound from Dean. This time it was a long, low groan that sent arousal spiking down his spine and straight to his own neglected cock. His fingers twitched as he considered touching himself, but it felt wrong somehow. He wanted his first touch to be from Dean's hand, not his own.

 

Shifting his weight onto just one elbow, Castiel lifted his hand and slipped it between Dean's legs to brush his fingers against his sac, tentatively at first, then with more confidence when the action caused another encouraging moan. Determined to hear more of those sounds, Castiel lifted up onto his knees and slowly took Dean all the way in, ignoring the gag reflex that tried it's best to stop him. It didn't matter, nothing mattered but bringing Dean as much pleasure as he could possibly give him. It was yet another new feeling, another link in the chain of reasoning that led him to understand why so many angels had fallen. This was why, to feel, to live, to _love._

 

“Oh _shit,_ Cas, you don't have to...” Castiel looked up in time to see Dean's eyes roll up into his head, his mouth moving but no more words escaping. A tug at his hair let him know it was okay to pull back, and then Dean's gaze dropped down and locked with Cas's.

 

Somehow, that one small action was more arousing than anything else they had done. Castiel swallowed around Dean just once, keeping eye contact, and Dean's orgasm ripped through him, tearing a cry from his lips as he emptied himself into Cas. The angel was unable to stop himself from choking, but he refused to pull away until Dean sank bonelessly onto the bed. Gasping slightly, Cas reached up and wiped at the cum that had leaked from between his lips. It tasted strange, he thought, though it wasn't entirely unpleasant. 

 

For a few long moments Dean lay still, limbs splayed everywhere, eyes closed, breath coming in quick, short pants. When he finally opened his eyes the hunger in them was so intense that it pinned Castiel to the spot, leaving him utterly helpless when Dean suddenly pounced.

 

“I'm going to destroy you,” Dean growled playfully as they tumbled back against the covers. “That's a good thing,” he added quickly when Castiel opened his mouth to question.

 

“Oh. Okay,” Castiel agreed easily. That didn't make much sense, but then again most of what humans did made little sense, so if Dean said it was a good thing he was going to trust him.

 

Dean lifted himself up so he was hovering on all fours over the angel. “Roll over.”

 

Cas frowned up at him. “On my stomach?”

 

Dean nodded and flashed him a grin. “Trust me.”

 

The angel sighed in pleasure when turning over caused his aching cock to rub against the soft sheets. He crossed his arms and rested his forehead against them, waiting with a strange mixture of calm and impatience to see what Dean would do.

 

The first touch came to his back. Fingers dug firmly just under his shoulder blades where the echo of his wings could be felt. A hiss of pleasure snaked through his teeth as he arched back into Dean's hands, like a cat asking for a firmer stroke.

 

The hunter chuckled smugly. “Thought so,” he murmured as he pressed again, harder this time.

 

Castiel groaned out something that started as Dean's name and trailed off into a garbled mess. He pressed back into Dean's hands again, completely blown away by the indescribable sensation rippling from Dean's fingers. It seemed to shiver through every nerve in his body, until he began to writhe helplessly against the sheets. Another incomprehensible but extremely happy sound escaped him when Dean leaned down and pressed an open mouthed kiss to his back, right between the hands that were making him lose all sense of self control. 

 

A quiet chuckle rolled suddenly against his skin. Cas lifted up on his elbows and twisted around in an attempt to see Dean, his eyes as heavy with lust as the hunter's had been earlier. “What are you laughing at?”

 

“Myself,” Dean replied immediately, with an easy, amused grin. “I'm having way more fun than I thought I would.”

 

“Good.” Castiel smiled back. “ _Don't. Stop.”_

 

Dean laughed. He was still close enough that the vibrations danced lightly across Castiel's skin, sinking inside and pulling a laugh from him as well. He hadn't expected laughter to be a part of this, but it was a welcome surprise. 

 

While the hunter's hands continued to knead at his shoulders, Dean's lips began to wander lower, mouthing experimentally along his spine, tongue exploring the curve of his lower back. The pleasure was so overwhelming that Cas had the sudden, whimsical thought that if he could purr, he would. As it was his hands were gripping and pressing into the pillow much the way a cat would knead. A low and almost constant moan poured out of his throat, an easy way to tell Dean that he _really_ liked what he was doing and please please _please_ don't stop. 

 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean murmured suddenly. His hands slide lightly along the angel's sides, causing a sensation he had heard referred to as 'tickling' that made him squirm. The hands came to rest on his hips and began to pull. “Roll over.”

 

He didn't need to be told twice this time. Anticipation spiked through him in a nearly unbearable wave as he rolled onto his back. Dean hovered above him, hands planted on either side of his head, staring down at Cas with the hunger the angel had kept expecting to see while they were chasing down Famine. He felt pinned by it, blissfully helpless as the hunter's eyes traveled up his body, then slowly, slowly back down.

 

“Dean,” Castiel murmured suddenly. He was a little amazed he was able to talk at all at this point. “You don't have to.”

 

He wasn't sure when he'd first spotted it, or when he'd processed it, but he could now clearly see a hesitance in Dean's eyes. Whether he was uncertain of himself or his own desire the angel couldn't tell.

 

“I want to,” Dean assured him. “Just need my brain to catch up to my body.”

 

“Yours is still functioning?” Cas blurted disbelievingly.

 

Dean froze. Just for a second, and then he burst out laughing. The full weight of him came crashing down on Cas when his arms failed to support him. Castiel felt those arms loop around his shoulders as the hunter buried his face in Cas's chest, his whole body shaking with the force of his amusement. The angel wasn't sure why his words were so funny, but he felt himself smiling anyway, just because Dean was happy. It was a rare treat to see him laugh so hard and so much in one night.

 

“I _really_ like you, Cas,” Dean chuckled into the angel's chest.

 

Castiel almost said he knew that already, and then he realized this was just something humans did. They told each other, they assured each other, or sometimes they just said it for a reason he wasn't certain of yet. Just because it felt right?

 

Yes. That made sense.

 

“I like you too,” Cas said finally. “Obviously.”

 

Dean let out another short burst of laughter. “Yeah. I would never get naked with any dude but you.”

 

Abruptly, Dean pushed himself up again, and all mirth had vanished from his expression. “Okay, I'm good. Here goes nothin'.”

 

With that Dean slid down Castiel's body and sucked the head of his cock into his mouth.

 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Castiel screamed.

 

It was better than anything Dean had done yet, too sweet, too good, making him twist the blanket in his hands as he tried desperately to hold his hips still, only they had apparently developed a life of their own. When he began to buck Dean lifted his hands and pressed down, holding him still against the mattress. His mouth slid down further, taking Cas in about half way before he stopped. For a moment he just held himself there, his expression hesitant and unsure. Then Cas felt the flick of his tongue against the underside, an echo of what he'd done for Dean. The angel arched up off the bed, his hips straining against the strength of Dean's hands, wanting more, _needing_ more. One hand left his hip and encircled what Dean couldn't take in and finally, he began to move. 

 

Dean's hand was rough and dry where his mouth was soft and wet, a contrast that sent Castiel into a state of near hysteria. Dean's name began to spill from his lips, frantic and nearly incoherent, when he felt something building inside, a sweet pressure threatening to explode at any moment. When Dean reached up and brushed his fingers over Cas's sac, once again echoing the angel's actions, the pressure didn't just explode. It crashed over him, through him, out of him, waves and waves of pleasure so intense that Castiel threw his head back and released a wordless scream. It went on for endless hours that were somehow wrapped in just a few seconds, until finally he slumped back against the bed, every muscle in his body relaxed and a vague sense of that pleasure still hovering within his body.

 

_Afterglow,_ he thought lazily.

 

Dean slid up and collapsed beside him, one arm flung out so that it rested behind the angel's head. Somehow, Cas managed to move his body enough to press himself against his hunter, using his arm as a pillow. The afterglow was almost as nice as the climax itself, he thought sleepily. 

 

“You fallin' asleep down there?” Dean murmured, sounding just as tired as Cas suddenly felt.

 

“Mm,” Cas answered eloquently.

 

A quiet chuckle and a barely intelligible “G'night” where his answer.

 

...*...

 

When Castiel woke the sun was shining through the window and Dean was sitting at the end of the bed. His coat was lying beside him but he hadn't dressed yet. Cas found he was rather glad of that. Naked Dean was something he had a feeling he was going to become addicted to. 

 

“Morning,” Cas said when Dean didn't notice he was awake.

 

The hunter twisted around sharply, looking surprised, before a grin took his initial reaction's place. “Mornin'.” He lifted what he'd taken from his coat, the valentine card Castiel had almost forgotten about. It seemed as though years had passed since that moment. “Dude, could you have picked a tackier card?”

 

“Probably,” Cas answered easily. “I got my point across, didn't I?”

 

“Yeah, you did that,” Dean chuckled. He slipped the card back into his pocket and pushed the coat off the bed. “So, it's seven. I figure we've got a couple more hours to laze around before we go back to Bobby's.”

 

Back to reality was what he meant. For now, Castiel decided to pretend there was no such thing as reality. “Are we going to watch more TV?”

 

“Nah, nothin' on, already checked.” Dean twisted around so he could crawl across the bed and flop down next to Cas.

 

“Then I have a question.” The angel waited until Dean was settled and looking up at him questioningly before he said, “What does coo-coo for cocoa puffs mean?”

 

Dean stared with the wide eyed expression of complete shock he got when someone succeeded in catching him utterly off guard. Cas never did get his answer. Dean began to laugh, just as hard as he had last night. Laughter led to kisses, which led to even more pleasant activities that kept them occupied for the remainder of their time together.

 

Sam was out of the panic room and sitting at the kitchen table by the time they finally dragged themselves back to the closest thing they had to a home. Though his face was still pale and his eyes still haunted, Sam's expression brightened when Dean and Cas came into the room. He laughed when Castiel gave him a thumbs up, which the angel was pretty sure was a sign of confirmation.

 

“Both of you, shut up,” Dean muttered as he poked his head into the fridge.

 

“I didn't say anything,” Castiel said with a confused frown.

 

Sam jerked a thumb towards Dean's back and rolled his eyes. He didn't seem even a little fazed when Cas reacted by becoming even more confused.

 

“Dean, you do realize I am never going to let you hear the end of this, right?” Sam said with a grin as Dean sat down at the table with two beers. He held one out to Cas, who accepted it after a second's hesitation. 

 

“Shut up,” Dean said again, and Castiel noticed he was hiding a smile behind his beer bottle.

 

“Only until we get back on the road,” Sam agreed. “And then it begins! That means you too, Cas!”

 

“What is it I won't be hearing the end of?”

 

Sam and Dean shared one of their looks, the kind that Castiel couldn't read no matter how many of them he saw. “You'll see,” they said as one.

 

“That's assuming you're going with us,” Dean said suddenly, gruffly.

 

Cas had known Dean long enough to recognize that as the question it was. “I'll ride in the car with you,” he said in answer. “I really don't have anywhere else to be anymore.”

 

“Great!” Sam said happily. “I get to torment you both!”

 

Dean abruptly set down his bottle with a loud “bang!” and stood from his chair, his expression one of immense amusement trying to hide behind a mask of irritation. “Excuse me, Cas, I have to kill my brother.”

 

Sam let out a quiet “Oh shit!” and bolted from the room. In the beginning Castiel wouldn't have recognized it as playing. Now he just laughed quietly as Dean ran after his little brother, he even followed them into the living room after setting his bottle down on the table.

 

“Dean, let him go,” Cas said with no small amount of amusement when he found Dean holding Sam in a tight headlock.

 

There was a pause as the brothers had one of their moments of silent communication. Then Dean released Sam and as one the two lunged at Cas instead. The angel was so startled at being included that he didn't react to defend himself, and so ended up pinned to the floor beneath them both. 

 

A loud “Idjits!” ended the bizarre little wrestling match. Sam and Dean bolted up from the floor with twin expressions of embarrassment. Cas lay still for a moment, his head twisted at an odd angle so he could see Bobby staring down at them with a look somewhere between annoyance and amusement. When Sam went to talk to Bobby Dean reached down and hauled Cas to his feet.

 

“Sorry,” Dean muttered. “We got carried away.”

 

“Don't apologize,” Cas said immediately. “I haven't seen you at ease with Sam in a long time.”

 

The hunter's gaze flicked towards his little brother as a quick grin flitted across his face. “Yeah. Well, guess we better hit the road. Got an apocalypse to stop.”

 

Oh yes. He'd almost forgotten. 

 

“Oh, hey...” Dean fumbled in his jacket pocket a moment before producing the card. “Here.” He shoved it into the angel's hand, flashed another quick grin, and then hurried to join Sam and Bobby.

 

Cas stared at the heart and “Be Mine” for a long moment, unsure what Dean's giving it back to him meant. He turned it over to see if anything was different and saw something had been written on the blank side, a single word that made him grin like a complete fool when he read it.

 

_Okay._

 

...* …

 

END


End file.
